Page 71 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

“I am so surprised to see you, my dear. Your note said you were otherwise engaged this weekend, so I did not expect you, although I am pleased you could attend the party. Did your plans change?” Charlotte peeped into the room. All clear. She led Maria to the chair nearest the fire and gently sat her down.

The distraught widow clung to her, tears still flooding down her cheeks.

She disengaged her arms from Maria and sat next to her. What on earth was all this to-do about?

Maria wiped at her streaming eyes with the back of her hand, her face pinched and miserable.

Charlotte rifled her pockets and produced a handkerchief. The girl snatched it up, covered her streaming eyes, and bowed her head. “I just want to die, Charlotte. Just die.”

“My dear, you must tell me what has distressed you so.” Charlotte patted her hand but could not fathom the reason for the girl’s distraught behavior. Had something happened to her family? Had a suitor jilted her? Where was Jane? Surely she would know what to do.

“I am sorry to appear so suddenly after declining your kind invitation, but I didn’t know where else to go.” Maria wiped her eyes and raised her head to stare desolately at Charlotte.

“Well, of course you should have come here.” Charlotte patted Maria’s hands again, peering at the doorway. Drat. Still no Jane. “We are your friends, Maria. If there is something we can do to help you—”

“No one can help me!” Sobs shook her slight frame as she bent forward, her head on her knees.

God in heaven, what could be the matter? What had happened that Maria would think there could be no remedy for it? Well, one thing might help the poor girl. Charlotte rose and paced to the sideboard. She removed the stopper from the cut-crystal decanter and poured a good shot of brandy into a tumbler. On second thought, best pour one for herself as well. This afternoon’s events had shaken her. She needed reinforcements before she pried Maria’s problem out of her.

“Here you go, my dear.” She pulled the young widow into a sitting position and thrust the glass into her hand. “You need to catch your breath. Drink this and then when Jane comes we will puzzle this out together.”

Charlotte took a sip of the amber liquid, relishing the burn that traced a path down her throat into her stomach. She’d never drunk spirits much, only wine at dinner and a sherry now and then. The popular ratafia she had never cared for. Another good swallow and her muscles began to relax. This brandy seemed to fortify her. No wonder men preferred it. She could deal with Maria and Alan much better now.

Maria held her glass in both hands, as if a child with a cup of milk. She had not tasted it yet.

“Here, dear, drink this up. It will make things ever so much better.” Charlotte urged the cup to the girl’s lips. Maria wrinkled her nose and took the smallest of sips. Her grimace told Charlotte she would get no more of the spirits down her. Indeed, Maria pushed the glass into Charlotte’s hand and shook her head.

“Ugh. That tastes nasty, Charlotte. Please don’t make me drink it.” Maria settled herself in her seat, a measure of calm seeming to steal over her.

“All right. But I daresay Jane will say the same thing.”

“What will I say, Charlotte?” Her cousin sailed into the room, going directly to the distressed young woman. “Maria. What a pleasant surprise.” Jane bussed her cheek. “Charlotte said you were unable to attend this weekend.” She took in the red eyes and woebegone face. “But whatever is the matter, my dear?”

The poor child arose and threw herself into Jane’s arms, the weeping recommencing with renewed vigor. Charlotte took another swallow of brandy, then carried the glasses back to the sideboard. The sobbing behind her quieted. Thank goodness Jane had a calming effect on Maria. Charlotte’s patience with the girl had begun to thin.

“Jane, what am I to do?” The pair sat on the sofa, Maria twisting the handkerchief to and fro.

“First, you must tell me what the matter is.” Jane stroked the pale, woebegone face. “Then I will be able to advise you accordingly.” She looked expectantly at her friend.

Maria cast a wretched glance from Jane to Charlotte, her eyes so stricken that instantly Charlotte understood this problem to be grave beyond her experience.

“I had hoped, up until yesterday, I had nothing to fear. That I was simply making a storm in a teacup. But I have counted and recounted and I have—” She came to a dead stop, bowed her head, and whispered, “I have missed my courses.”

Charlotte and Jane exchanged a puzzled look. This was the dire circumstance that had brought Maria hurtling into the country?

“My dear, that is not an unusual occurrence,” Jane said, wrapping her arm around Maria’s shoulder. “Some women do miss their time occasionally, with no ill effects. It is only when you have been having marital relations that this event becomes more momentous.”

Maria’s silence sent a shiver of unease through Charlotte. Surely this could not be so. Had Maria had a dalliance with someone? Charlotte would never have believed it of the shy little widow. There must be some other explanation.

“Have you had any distress recently, Maria?” Charlotte asked, praying for some domestic argument with the girl’s parents. “Any grave illness? That will sometimes upset your monthly courses.” Dread filled Charlotte even as she spoke. A sickness of any sort would be a godsend at this moment.

“No, I have been extremely well. Except . . .” Maria studied her handkerchief as if her life depended on it. “Except in the mornings sometimes. I have been ill just after rising from my bed.”

Oh dear God. Charlotte could feel the blood drain from her face.

“And the last time you had your courses was . . . ?”

“In August.”